


force of will

by gabriphales



Series: gomens drabble hell [20]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Dialogue, Non-Explicit Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:14:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23788390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabriphales/pseuds/gabriphales
Summary: aziraphale lets gabriel take his frustrations out on him. it's anything but healthy
Relationships: Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Series: gomens drabble hell [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664713
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	force of will

**Author's Note:**

> mitskis i dont smoke remains one of my fave songs i can project gabriphale onto

he loves warm things.

the sunkissed spots in open meadows, where tall blades of grass had failed to completely shelter its ground from the sky. the waft of another breathing, living thing's air brushing over his face during the bitter depths of winter. fingers intertwining with his own, and a thumb to rub over his knuckles, trace lines along his palm. 

gabriel's hand is as close to something warm as he can get. and when it breaks the gap between skin, leaves aziraphale's cheek hot and tingling, that's enough for him. it's enough for this to be worth it. his hand is the heavy presence that fills the empty bed aziraphale's made for himself in his life. there's nothing worse than cold sheets on a dreary morning. nothing worse than waking up alone, reaching out for something to grasp other than linen and silk. 

so aziraphale tolerates whatever gabriel has to do to him to feel better. and gabriel - gabriel isn't always _earnest_ about the ordeal, so to speak. rather, he's quite fickle on the matter, always holding back until aziraphale tells him to _please, just let it all out without hesitation, i can handle it, i'm stronger than you know._ and gabriel listens, gabriel obliges.

the one time he hits aziraphale too hard - a blow to his nose, miscalculated in angle and force - he nearly gasps with the impact of it. the realization that he's crossed his personal limits of just how far he's willing to take this, how much he's willing to reap from aziraphale's kindness.

he drags him up from where he's fallen to his knees, wipes the ruddy blood from his stained mouth, and asks him, very quietly, for forgiveness.

aziraphale answers in the form of bringing his knuckles, bruised and burning to feel more things crumble underneath them, to his lips - and _kissing._ kissing, and offering a gentle, polite smile.

it's better to be hurt than to be isolated.

when things eventually devolve into a more carnal practice - the press of gabriel's body over his own, holding him down, always holding him down - aziraphale isn't surprised. he lets him have his way until the muscles in his thighs start to ache from being spread so wide. until his chest screams red and raw from the hammering pulse it can hardly contain. and even then, even once he reaches that point, it's a rarity for him to tell gabriel to stop. because he _likes_ it. he likes knowing he has a purpose to fulfill.

all he has to do is stay quiet, pliant, easy to move and hit and toss around, and he'll be satiating something in gabriel left unattended for too long. it's easy, he's decided, letting himself be used. he sobs weak and whimperish every time gabriel presses him to the brim of what he can take. and as his body struggles with an overload of capacity, he's thankful, thankful for all he's managed to endure.

and it's not like gabriel isn't kind to him afterwards. he mellows out, goes soft and penitent. whispering a whole array of apologies and comforts. and, more often than not, siphoning the hurt from between aziraphale's thighs away with his mouth and tongue. 

he shuffles onto his belly, and doesn't stop until aziraphale's cried out the full extent of his agonies. not until he's as drained of suffering as gabriel is, filled with a honey sweet, golden pleasure to replace the pain instead.

aziraphale never complains, keeping quiet when gabriel does eventually take his leave. standing from the bed they've made wretched and cursed, and shutting the shop door with a deceivingly friendly tingle of bells. aziraphale comforts himself with the warmth left behind. spread across his body, and throughout the mattress that's played proxy to his self-offerings. 

because he likes warm things, and gabriel keeps him warm.


End file.
